Prologue: The Final Vigil
In the damp, predawn darkness of December 30, 2025, a quiet crowd had already begun to gather outside the Evercare Hospital in Dhaka’s upscale Banani district. They were not there with banners or slogans. They stood in silence, their faces illuminated by the glow of mobile screens and the occasional flicker of a candle sheltered from the winter breeze. Some clutched faded photographs; others held simple placards with handwritten prayers. Among them was Tipu Sultan, a 48-year-old grassroots party worker, who had camped on the pavement for over a month, holding a sign that read, “I wish to donate my kidney to Begum Khaleda Zia.” His vigil, captured in a viral video, was not an isolated act of devotion but a pixel in a vast, nationwide portrait of a relationship that defied simple political explanation.
Inside the hospital, the woman who inspired such fierce loyalty was in her final hours. At 80, her body—battling liver cirrhosis, diabetes, heart disease, and a lung infection—was yielding to a lifetime of accumulated strain: the strain of power, the strain of prison, the strain of loss, and the relentless strain of leading a perpetual opposition. At precisely 6:00 AM, shortly after the Fajr prayer, her struggle ended. The news, conveyed in a terse social media post from her party, the Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP), echoed across the country: “Our beloved national leader is no more.”
What followed was not the orchestrated, state-managed funeral of a sitting ruler, but something more organic and profound—a collective, national exhale of grief, respect, and remembrance. It was a farewell that crossed political fault lines, paused the relentless churn of Bangladeshi politics, and forced a moment of reckoning. In death, as in life, Khaleda Zia proved her unique, ineffable power: the power to command attention, to embody a cause, and to symbolise a complex strand of the national identity. This power, often termed her “magic,” was not the charismatic flair of a populist or the intellectual dominance of an ideologue. It was something subtler, more enigmatic, and ultimately more enduring. It was the alchemy of a shy homemaker transformed into an “uncompromising leader”; of a widow thrust into a violent political arena who then shaped its democratic institutions; of a prisoner who became, in confinement, a more potent symbol than she ever was in power.
This is an exploration of that magic—an attempt to trace its sources, its manifestations, its contradictions, and its lasting imprint on the soul of Bangladesh. It is the story of how Begum Khaleda Zia became more than a politician; she became a phenomenon.
Part I: The Alchemy of Origins – From ‘Lajjuk Grihini’ to Political Heir (1945-1984)
Khaleda Zia’s magic was rooted, first and foremost, in the startling improbability of her origins. Born Khaleda Khanam Putul on August 15, 1945, in the Dinajpur district, her early life gave no indication of a future on the national stage. Her father, Iskandar Majumdar, was a businessman. She was educated at the Dinajpur Government Girls’ School and Surendranath College, a conventional path for a girl of her middle-class. In 1960, in a match arranged by families, she married a dashing Pakistan Army captain, Ziaur Rahman. She was around 15; he was 24.
For the next two decades, she inhabited the role of a military officer’s wife with grace and reticence. Those who knew her in the Dhaka Cantonment in the 1970s, after Zia’s rise to prominence following the 1971 Liberation War, recall a “lajjuk grihini” (shy housewife)—soft-spoken, devoted to her two sons, Tarique and Arafat, and focused on the domestic sphere. Colonel Harunur Rashid Khan, a former aide-de-camp, remembered, “She herself would entertain guests. She looked after everything in the family. I never saw her raise her voice.”
The first, brutal crack in this tranquil life came on May 30, 1981. President Ziaur Rahman was assassinated in Chittagong in a bloody military coup attempt. The news shattered Khaleda Zia. Witnesses described her collapsing silently onto the floor. Her personal world was destroyed, and the nation’s political landscape was plunged into instability. The BNP, the party Zia had founded just three years prior, was leaderless and adrift. The ageing President Justice Abdus Sattar, Zia’s successor, was struggling to hold the party together against the machinations of military strongman Hussain Muhammad Ershad.
It was in this vacuum that the initial spark of her political magic was struck. The BNP, a coalition of diverse interests that Zia had assembled, faced existential fragmentation. A section of party leaders and military officials, notably Maj. Gen. Nurul Islam Shishu and Lt. Col. Akbar Hossain began to voice a radical idea: the only figure who could truly unify the party and carry Zia’s legacy was his widow. As Mahfuz Ullah documented in his historical account, they argued that the party needed “the legacy of Zia and only Begum Zia carried that legacy.”
The idea was met with fierce resistance from the old guard, including Prime Minister Shah Azizur Rahman. They dismissed her as a political novice, a mere housewife with no place in the rough-and-tumble of national leadership. The internal tug-of-war throughout 1981 and early 1982 was intense. Khaleda herself was ambivalent, initially showing “little interest.” She granted television interviews speaking only of her life with Zia and her domestic responsibilities. Yet, under immense pressure and recognising the party’s desperate need for a unifying symbol, she took a fateful step. On January 4, 1982, she accepted membership in the BNP. A day later, she filed nomination papers for the party chairmanship, directly challenging Justice Sattar.
Then, in a move that foreshadowed the tactical shrewdness that would later define her, she withdrew her candidacy on January 7, citing the “greater interest of the party and nation” after receiving assurances from Sattar. This was not surrender; it was strategic positioning. It established her as a self-sacrificing figure above the fray, while her very candidacy had cemented her status as the rightful heir to Zia’s mantle in the eyes of the rank and file.
The real transformation, however, was catalysed by raw force. On March 24, 1982, General Ershad seized power in a military coup, suspending the fragile democratic process. With Sattar’s government ousted and the BNP’s old leadership either co-opted or cowed, the party’s workers turned unequivocally to the one person they believed was untouchable by accusations of collaboration and incorruptible in her devotion to Zia’s memory: Begum Khaleda Zia.
In 1983, she was made a Vice-Chairperson. In 1984, at the party’s national council, she was elected Chairperson. The “shy housewife” was now the leader of Bangladesh’s largest political party. The magic here was one of "transmutation. Grief and personal tragedy were alchemised into political legitimacy. Her very inexperience became an asset; she was seen as untainted by the compromises and corruption of the political elite. She was not a politician; she was a symbol—a vessel for the hopes of a party and a nation yearning for stability and democratic continuity. Her power was, from the outset, deeply symbolic and emotional, rooted in a narrative of sacrifice and inheritance.
Part II: The Magic of Defiance – The ‘Nircompromising’ Leader (1984-1990)
If her ascent was magical, her consolidation of power was meteoric, forged in the fire of direct confrontation. The 1980s were the decade of Ershad’s martial law, and Khaleda Zia, alongside her lifelong rival Sheikh Hasina of the Awami League, became the twin pillars of the democratic opposition.
This period defined her public persona and birthed her iconic moniker: the “Nircompromising Leader.” While other politicians wavered, negotiated with the regime, or participated in Ershad’s managed elections, Khaleda Zia stood firm. The BNP, under her leadership, boycotted the 1986 and 1988 parliamentary polls, branding them shams. She was arrested repeatedly, spending stretches under house arrest. Each arrest, however, only amplified her stature. Her defiance was not fiery or rhetorical in the classical sense; it was stoic, stubborn, and utterly unwavering. This "magic of obstinacy" became her greatest political asset.
Street politics became her theatre. She led mammoth rallies, her small figure often draped in a white 'sari' and 'ormi', standing resolutely before microphones, her voice steady but charged with a quiet intensity. The imagery was powerful: a woman, a widow, facing down a military machine. It tapped into deep cultural reservoirs of respect for maternal strength and sacrifice. She was not just opposing a dictator; she was embodying a moral stance.
Her relationship with Sheikh Hasina during this period was a complex dance of alliance and nascent rivalry. Together, they were the “Battling Begums,” a phrase that captured both their partnership and their inherent competition. In a rare moment of unity that altered history, they forged a strategic alliance in 1990. Khaleda Zia made a significant political compromise, sitting with Hasina to formulate a joint declaration for Ershad’s ouster. This decision showcased a different kind of magic: the "magic of pragmatic alliance". She subordinated personal and partisan animosity to the larger democratic goal, proving she could be tactical when the cause demanded it.
The magic worked. The combined pressure of their movements, alongside student and civil society forces, forced Ershad to resign in December 1990. Khaleda Zia emerged from the decade not just as a party chief, but as a national leader who had earned her stripes on the streets. Her “uncompromising” tag was a badge of honour, a guarantee of principle for her supporters. She had proven that her power, derived from symbolism, could be translated into real-world political force capable of toppling a regime.
Part III: The Magic of Governance – Architect and Administrator (1991-1996)
Victory in the 1991 general election brought a new test: could the symbol become an effective stateswoman? Khaleda Zia’s first term as Prime Minister (1991-1996) is where her magic evolved from the politics of resistance to the politics of institution-building.
Her first and perhaps most enduring act was presiding over the historic "transition from a presidential to a parliamentary system of government". This was no small feat; it required navigating a volatile political environment and building consensus. It was a structural change intended to anchor democracy by dispersing power. For a leader who had just emerged from a struggle against autocratic centralisation, this was a profound commitment to democratic form.
Her government’s most significant structural legacy, however, was the "Caretaker Government (CG) system". The 1996 election was marred by opposition boycott and violence. In a masterstroke of constitutional craftsmanship—and significant political risk—Khaleda Zia’s government passed the 13th Amendment, institutionalising a neutral, non-partisan caretaker administration to oversee future elections. Then, in an act of astonishing political confidence, she dissolved her own government to face elections under the very system she had just created. The magic here was the "magic of self-limiting power". She voluntarily ceded control to create a fairer playing field, a move almost unheard of in South Asian politics. Though she lost that 1996 election to Sheikh Hasina’s Awami League, she won every seat she personally contested, a testament to her undiminished personal appeal.
On the economic front, guided by Finance Minister M. Saifur Rahman, her government embarked on a policy of liberalisation. The introduction of the Value Added Tax (VAT) in 1991 was a politically difficult but fiscally transformative reform that permanently expanded the state’s revenue base. Deregulation and encouragement of the private sector, particularly the ready-made garment industry, set the stage for Bangladesh’s future economic growth. The World Bank would later hail Bangladesh as “the next Asian tiger economy.”
Perhaps the most socially transformative magic was cast in the classroom. Recognising that national development was impossible without women, her government in 1994 launched a nationwide stipend program, making secondary education free for girls in rural areas. This single policy intervention altered the social fabric of the country, driving up female enrollment and literacy rates for a generation. This was the "magic of quiet revolution"—a policy that worked from the ground up, empowering millions.
Yet, this phase also revealed the limits and shadows of her magic. Her 1991 government relied on the parliamentary support of the Islamist Jamaat-e-Islami, a party opposed to the secular founding principles of 1971. This alliance, a pragmatic calculation to secure a majority, would forever stain her legacy in the eyes of secularists and Awami League supporters, framing her as ideologically flexible to the point of compromise on national origins. The “Battling Begums” rivalry also intensified, shifting from a partnership against dictatorship to a bitter, zero-sum contest that would increasingly paralyze the polity.
Part IV: The Magic of Polarisation – Queen of the Divide (2001-2006)
Khaleda Zia’s second term (2001-2006), following a landslide victory for her four-party alliance, represented the peak of her executive power but also the crystallisation of her most divisive magic: the "magic of polarisation".
The 2001 election was a massive validation of her political strategy. The alliance secured a two-thirds majority. The campaign and its aftermath, however, were among the most violent in Bangladesh’s history, with widespread allegations of attacks on religious minorities and political opponents. Her tenure became synonymous with hardline politics. The rivalry with Hasina descended into a state of perpetual confrontation, marked by endless 'hartals' (strikes), boycotts, and street violence that brought governance to a standstill.
Her foreign policy, particularly regarding India, became a cornerstone of her political identity. As analyses like NDTV’s noted, she “always prioritised Bangladesh’s sovereignty.” She opposed transit agreements with India, framing them as an assault on national dignity, famously comparing the use of Bangladeshi roads by Indian trucks to “slavery.” She criticised the Farakka Barrage and was cool towards the 1972 Friendship Treaty. In a significant strategic pivot, she deepened defence ties with China, securing tanks, frigates, and military hardware. This stance was not merely diplomatic; it was central to her political brand—the leader who would stand up to the big neighbour, the guardian of national interest. This "magic of sovereign defiance" resonated deeply with a nationalist constituency and defined the BNP’s ideological contrast with the more India-friendly Awami League.
But the very polarisation that strengthened her base eroded the centre. By 2006, as her term ended, the democratic machinery ground to a violent halt. The dispute over who would head the caretaker government—the institution she herself had created—spilt onto the streets, turning Dhaka into a battleground. The magic of the uncompromising leader now seemed like a curse on the nation’s stability. The stage was set for a military-interrupted denouement.
In January 2007, with the country in deadlock, the military-backed “Caretaker Government” seized the initiative, declared a state of emergency, and imprisoned both Khaleda Zia and Sheikh Hasina on charges of corruption and abuse of power. The two queens of polarisation were dethroned together.
Part V: The Inverse Magic – The Potency of Persecution (2007-2024)
What followed was the most paradoxical chapter in Khaleda Zia’s story, where her magic operated in inverse proportion to her freedom. Confinement, rather than diminishing her, amplified her symbolic power.
After a period of detention during the 2007-08 emergency, she returned to power politics but faced an ascendant, increasingly authoritarian Awami League under Sheikh Hasina after 2009. The legal noose tightened. In 2018, she was convicted and sentenced to prison in the Zia Orphanage Trust corruption case—a verdict her supporters and international observers widely decried as politically motivated.
Her imprisonment was a study in deliberate isolation. For over two years, from February 2018, she was held as the sole inmate of the abandoned Old Dhaka Central Jail on Nazimuddin Road. While other prisoners had been moved to a modern facility, she was kept in a dilapidated room of the colonial-era structure. Her party and human rights groups described it as de facto solitary confinement. This "magic of martyrdom" was now in full effect. The image of the former prime minister, ill and alone in a crumbling jail, became a devastating indictment of the government. Her physical absence made her a constant, haunting presence in the political discourse.
Personal tragedy intersected with political persecution. In 2015, while under a de facto house arrest during a violent political standoff, she received the news of her younger son Arafat Rahman Koko’s, death in Malaysia. She was unable to be with her family, forced to mourn in isolation. The then-Prime Minister Hasina arrived at her gate to offer condolences but was turned away—a scene of surreal, heartbreaking political theatre.
Even after a conditional release in 2020 on humanitarian grounds amid the COVID-19 pandemic, she remained confined to her Gulshan home, a spectral figure in Bangladeshi politics. Her party was systematically hollowed out by arrests and intimidation. Yet, the less she was seen, the larger she loomed. She became the ultimate symbol of political vendetta, a rallying point for dissent against what was seen as one-party rule.
The magic culminated in the events of 2024. A massive, student-led nationwide uprising, fueled by economic hardship and demands for democratic accountability, toppled the Hasina government. In the dramatic aftermath, Khaleda Zia was not only released but fully exonerated. The cases against her were dismissed. She witnessed the fall of the regime that had jailed her. In a supreme twist of historical irony, her lifelong rival, Sheikh Hasina, was later sentenced *in absentia* for crimes against humanity after fleeing to India.
Upon her release, Khaleda Zia performed her final act of political magic. In her first public address in six years, delivered via video from a hospital bed, she notably refrained from vengeance. She did not name Hasina. Instead, she urged the nation to reject the “politics of vengeance and destruction.” The uncompromising leader had transformed, in her twilight, into a voice for reconciliation. This "magic of moral suasion, emerging from years of suffering, surprised many and added a poignant, grace-noted layer to her complex legacy.
Part VI: The Enduring Spell – Legacy and the Empty Throne
Khaleda Zia’s magic did not dissipate with her death; it solidified into a legacy. Her farewell proved it. The mourning was national, not merely partisan. Media retrospectives, both domestic and international, grappled with her complexities. She was praised as a democrat and criticised as a polariser; hailed as a social reformer and questioned for her alliances. This very tension is key to her enduring spell.
"The Magic of Duality:" She was a permanent contradiction: a military wife who cemented civilian rule; a symbol of democracy who ruled in alliance with anti-liberation forces; a privatised person who became a public institution; a figure of resistance who ultimately called for peace.
The Magic of Symbolic Weight: She carried the weight of multiple symbolisms: the grieving widow, the mother of the nation, the victim of injustice, the defender of sovereignty. Supporters did not just vote for her policies; they pledged allegiance to these symbols.
"The Magic of the Vacuum:" Her death leaves a chasm in the BNP and the national opposition. Her son, Tarique Rahman, is the hereditary heir but lacks her unique, alchemical blend of symbolism and grit. Her magic was personal and situational, born of a specific confluence of history, biography, and national trauma. It is not easily transferred.
"The Magic of the Narrative:" Ultimately, Khaleda Zia’s greatest magic was her story. It is a Shakespearean arc—of rise, triumph, tragic flaw, fall, persecution, and redemption. It is a story that mirrors Bangladesh’s own jagged journey: from liberation to military rule, from democratic aspiration to violent polarisation, from hope for pluralism to the fear of hegemony.
Epilogue: The Nation and the Necromancer
In Bangladeshi folklore, a 'ojha' or 'gunin' is a necromancer who can summon spirits and wield unseen forces. In a political sense, Khaleda Zia was Bangladesh’s necromancer. She summoned the spirit of her husband to build her legitimacy. She channelled the public’s yearning for democracy into a movement that toppled dictators. She conjured the spectre of national sovereignty to define her foreign policy. And in her darkest hours, she evoked the powerful spirits of sacrifice and martyrdom to sustain her relevance and ultimately, to secure her vindication.
Her magic was imperfect, often divisive, and sometimes dark. But it was undeniably real. It moved millions, shaped institutions, defined eras, and forever altered the country’s political calculus. As Bangladesh moves forward, navigating its fragile democracy, her story will remain an essential incantation—a reminder of the power of resilience, the price of principle, and the enduring, enigmatic magic that lies in the most unexpected of vessels.
"The shy housewife is gone. The uncompromising leader is silent. The symbol, however, endures. And in the restless soul of Bangladesh, the spell of Khaleda Zia lingers on."
Author: Minhaz Samad Chowdhury is an Independent Human Rights Defender and Policy Advocate focusing on State Violence, Media Freedom, Political Rights, Minority Protection, and Democratic Accountability.
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